Regretting
by xxIceCrystalxx
Summary: I love him more than anything...but I have to leave, for his sake, for my sake, for the sake of the small life inside of me...and I've never stopped regretting my choice. Part 2 of the Trinity Trilogy
1. Chapter 1

**Hey people! It's me again, IceCrystal! Miss me much? Of course you did. **

**Anyway, I really loved all the responses telling me I should write a sequel of Daddy. And I did…and it's going to become the third part of the Trinity Trilogy. **

**Why, you ask? Well, you see, as I realized when I was plotting it out, there was going to be a lot of explaining to be done. And some backround info would be really appreciated, but I really didn't feel like adding it in an A/N because 1. hardly anyone reads this crap and 3. it would be a really LONG A/N and 4. It would come as a MAJOR shock and you guys would be SO pissed at me, trust me on this. **

**And I just realized I forgot number 2. Who cares, 2 is an overrated number anyway. **

**And that's what happened. **

**So this isn't really a **_**sequel**_**, persay. Think of it more as a…prequel. An explaining story. **

**And here we are again, my dear readers. The beginning of another story. I hope you really like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. Get over it.**

Blinding sunlight shimmers on my sandstone and ivory colored wings. The soothing murmur of the creek echoes in my ears. The slight breeze that stirs the leaves ever-so-gently caresses my feathers, like the lightest brush of fingers. I smile to myself, turning my face to the sky, a beautiful forget-me-not blue, feeling my long hair tickle the small of my back.

I haven't felt this peaceful in ages…

"Max!"

I sigh, frowning at the sudden call. "What do you want Fang?"

He's gliding towards me silently, effortlessly. "Meditating?" he teases gently, pulling me into his arms.

"Trying to." I rest my head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath the thin veil of his skin. "It's such a beautiful day."

He takes a stray strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. "Just like you," he murmurs.

I stifle a laugh. "Enough with the sappy stuff, please!" I beg, making no effort to move away.

"Oh, come on, Max. I thought you liked it."

"How long have you known me?"

"Hmm…nineteen years?" he guesses. "In other words, all my life?"

"Right."

Now he pulls away, grabbing my hand. "C'mon, Max. Iggy sent me to go get you. He says dinner's ready."

Small, meaningless conversations fill the gap between the peaceful forest and our house. We soar side by side, our wing tips nearly brushing.

"Max! Fang!" Nudge cries as soon as we walk through the screen door. "We thought you weren't coming."

"Hoped, you mean," Gazzy corrects. "Iggy made chicken. More for us!"

"Oh, haha," Fang says sarcastically. "Smells good, Ig."

"You know, I think that's the longest sentence I've ever heard you say, Fang," Iggy says, setting several steaming platters on the table.

In a time space of oh, say, five minutes, all the food _vanishes. _"That was really good, Iggy!" Angel chirps.

"Yeah, she's right," Nudge added.

Suddenly Angel winces. "Fang! Try to keep your thoughts pure, please."

All eyes fly to my boyfriend, who's blushing madly. "Do I even want to know what you were thinking about?" I ask lightly, twining my fingers with his. He shakes his head quickly.

"Max! He's doing it again!" Angel complains. "Fang, there are children present!"

"Angel, you're not a _child," _Fang laughs. "You're eleven years old. You'll live."

"Close enough," she pouts. "Oh, _ew_!"

"I'm leaving." He gets up.

I sigh. "Angel, you didn't _have _to read his mind, you know."

"Well, it's hard not to!" she cries. "Not when he's thinking that loud!"

_Hmm…I didn't know it was even _possible_ to think loudly…_

"It is," the eleven-year old says.

I shake my head, standing. "C'mon, kids, bed. You've got school in the morning." They've been going to the high/middle school down the street. Nudge was a sophomore, Gazzy was in eighth grade, and Angel was in sixth grade. Iggy, Fang and I graduated last year.

Groaning and griping, the three of them reluctantly get up and trudge down the hallway to their rooms. I decide to go find my boyfriend.

Gazzy, Angel, and Nudge have their bedrooms on one side of the house, Iggy, Fang and I on the other. I head in the opposite direction of my flock, wandering through the kitchen and living room and hallway in turn. "Fang?" I call, knocking softly on the door at the end of the hallway.

It swings open soundlessly, revealing the breathtaking figure of Fang—hehe, _my _boyfriend—leaning against the doorway. "Hey, Max."

I blush and look away. And I hardly _ever _blush.

So is the power of Fang.

He grabs me by the hand and pulls me into his room. Within seconds we've both fallen onto his bed, giggling madly. The perfect moment is marred only by the enraged shout coming from the other end of the house. Angel, it sounds like.

"FANG!"

**Hehe…don't kill me!**


	2. Chapter 2

"Max!" sang out a girl with a halo of blonde curls as she plopped down on my bed beside me. "Come on, it's time to wake up. Iggy's making blueberry pancakes and you know that they go fast."

"No…" I mumble, pulling the blanket up over my head. "Go away, Angel. I'm tired."

"Max, it's past noon."

"Seriously?"

She laughs, a high, carefree sound. "No, not seriously. But come on, really."

"Angel, please just go away," I repeat. A white fog clouds my mind, making it hard to think.

"Max, don't make me get Fang in here." Her voice sounds serious beyond her age.

"Go right ahead."

"Alright then, it's your funeral." She leaps up and I hear her running out into the hallway, calling Fang's name.

I sigh, knowing that I had better make the best of the few moments I have. Heartbeats later Fang is beside me, his gentle fingers playing with my hair. "Wake up, sleeping beauty," he teases.

I put my arms around his neck. His steady breathing further soothes me, making it all the harder to get up. "Don't wanna. I just wanna sleep…"

"Max…"

"Fine," I mutter, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

"There. Now that's better, isn't it?"

"Not really." He laughs and walks towards the door. I scowl at him and follow.

But when I'm halfway to the kitchen when I'm overcome by a sudden nausea that's so bad I have to lean against the wall to stay standing.

"Max? Are you alright?" Fang's beside me in an instant. "Is it another headache?"

"No…this is different…I think…" I slide to the floor and puke my guts out.

"Max!" Angel's voice is terrified. "What's wrong? Are you sick?"

"What happened?" Iggy calls.

"She just threw up!"

I can hear them, but I don't pay any mind to them. I just concentrate on not barfing again.

_Beware, Max. Great changes are coming. _The Voice says, and I jump. I haven't heard it since…since…

Years ago.

"What?" I snarl at it. "What are you talking about? What changes?"

But it doesn't answer. It's gone.

I sigh and lean back against the wall. "No, no, I'm okay," I assure Fang, who's hovering over me anxiously. "Seriously. I'm fine." He frowns, obviously not believing me. I stand, smiling reassuringly. "C'mon, let's go. I'm starved." Well, kinda. Not really. Anything to get him off my back.

Once all my bird kids are happily digging into massive piles of pancakes, I rummage through the cupboards, looking for some bread or crackers or something that'll—hopefully—soothe my stomach. Finally locating the ever-elusive loaf of bread I grab a slice and shove it into the toaster, drumming my fingers impatiently against the countertop until it pops back up again. Smiling, I grab it and break a piece of the edge. "You're eating it dry?" Fang asked, raising one eyebrow. "I didn't think you liked that."

"Sure I do," I lie. I _hate _dry toast—well, anything dry, actually. But the last thing I need is to throw up again and Fang forcing me to the doctor's office.

Egh. Needles.

He shakes his head and goes back to his pancakes. "Whatever."

Nudge finishes her breakfast and rushes out the door. "Bye Max, bye Fang, bye Iggy!" she tosses over her shoulder as she grabs her dark cream-colored backpack. "Gotta go or I'll be late!" Her classes start and hour before Gazzy's and Angel's do, but she gets home an hour earlier.

"See ya!" I call back absentmindedly, still munching on the toast. "You two should probably start getting ready," I add to Gazzy and Angel.

It seems to take forever, but eventually the siblings are dressed. "Where's my bag?" Gazzy mutters, rummaging around the living room.

"Same place mine is, and I can't find mine, either!" Angel retorts.

"Found them!" Fang calls, holding up two bags, one black, one pink.

"Thanks, Fang!" they say in unison, grabbing them and running out the door.

"You know," I tell him teasingly, "I never thought I'd see the day you were holding a _pink _backpack."

"Shut up," he mumbles.

"Hey, guys!" Iggy calls. "I gotta go shopping. We have no food. Later, Max, Fnick."

"Have fun," I shout back.

A strong pair of arms snakes their way around my waist. "You know, we're alone," Fang murmurs in my ear.

He doesn't need to say anymore. Within seconds we're both streaking towards my room as fast as our feet can take us, falling onto silky sheets with my arms locked around his neck, his around my waist, kissing each other with everything we've got.

**Don't kill me, pretty please? **

**Reviews?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Welcome back, peoples! **

The next thing I'm aware of is warm sunlight on my face. I blink open heavy eyes.

"Morning," Fang murmurs from behind me. I turn over and press close to him.

"What time is it?"

"One? Two? Not sure."

"What?" I glance at the clock. "How long was I asleep, anyway?"

He shrugs. "Four, five hours?" he guesses. "A little while."

"Is Iggy back yet?"

"I _think _he got back fifteen minutes after he left…I'm not sure. I was a little bit…distracted."

"We both were," I reply softly. "Did he…notice?"

"No clue."

I reach up to kiss him. But, the moment I move, it feels like a dagger is being stabbed into my stomach. "Oh my God!" I gasp, pressing a hand to my mouth and bolting towards the bathroom.

"Max!" Fang shouts, chasing after me.

I just barely make it to the bathroom. The black and dark blue tiles—who thought of _that _color combination, it looks like a bruise—is cool against my knees as I puke my guts out for the second time today. Fang is right there next to me, rubbing the spot between my wings—bless him, it feels so amazing—anxiously. "Are you okay, Max?" he demands. "Are you coming down with something? Maybe you should stay away from the kids for a little while—"

When did he morph into the tender, caring boyfriend? I miss my dark, silent, cliché, mysterious Fang… "I'm alright," I assure him. "Would you mind go getting me some crackers or something?"

He stands, frowning, and rummages through the medicine cabinet. "Here, take this," he commands, handing me the bright pink bottle of pepto-bismol. "I'll go get you some food."

Muttering ominously about stomach bugs and over-protective boyfriends, I pour the thick liquid into the cup and down it, wincing at the taste. There, now Fang shouldn't worry about me when my stomach's calmer. I start towards the hallway, and stop dead.

There, with a grotesque picture of simpering kittens splashed onto it, is the small pocket calendar that Nudge and I use to keep track of our periods. There's the line of straight black X's that belong to Nudge, but, even though its near the end of the month, there's no sign of the big red X's that are mine. Frowning, I go back a month. Finding the marks, I count silently from the last, dread brewing somewhere deep inside me.

Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven…

_Please let me be wrong…_

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one…

_Please say this isn't happening…_

Thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five…

_Let this be a dream…_

Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine...

Today.

I slide to the floor.

I'm _nineteen. _

This isn't happening.

_This. Isn't. Happening!_

I'm not _pregnant…_am I?

Only one way to find out…

**Reviews? Pretty please? **


	4. Chapter 4

I don't remember anything after that. I don't remember making some excuse to Fang, walking to the store, buying the small blue box, telling Fang and Iggy and Nudge—she must be home by now—that I wasn't feeling well and was going to take a nap, locking myself in the basement bathroom…

But I must've, because suddenly I'm standing here in the cement-walled, windowless bathroom with the hideous ceiling light that looks like a starfish that never stops flickering—light, darkness, light, darkness, over and over again—and staring at the strip of plastic is my hand, that—in spite of everything I'd hoped for—is bright blue. The color seems to scream at me-_You're pregnant! You're going to have a baby!_—and I feel like throwing up. Or crying. Or both.

_No no no no…_

Light, darkness. Light, darkness.

I'm glad I locked the door. Nobody needs to see a girl sobbing as if her heart would break because her world is crumbling around her and she doesn't know what to do…

It takes a moment to realize that the girl is me.

Light, darkness. Light, darkness.

For what seems like an eternity I stay there, huddled on the cool tile floor—dark green and cream colored, unlike the one upstairs, honestly, whoever came up with these combinations must be colorblind—tears streaming silently down my cheeks, splashing onto my hand.

Light, darkness. Light, darkness.

C'mon, Max, you've got to pull yourself together! Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean it's the end of the world…

_No, _says a snarky little voice in the back of my head, _it's just the end to life as you know it, that's all. _

"Shut up," I tell it forcefully.

_First sign of madness, talking to your own head, _says the Voice suddenly, sounding very amused.

Light, darkness. Light, darkness.

"Stop flickering," I mutter.

_Max, you've got some serious decision-making to do, _the Voice intones. _And this time you can't just think of your own needs. _

"I know," I sigh. "But I don't have any options!"

_You always have options, Max, _the Voice replies. _It's the only thing you can ever count on. _

**Reviewers get a cookie! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Welcome back again, people! :D I gots lipgloss that tastes like cookies. I'm in heaven. :D **

"Max! Wake up!" a multitude of voices choruses from downstairs. I scowl and sit up, knowing it's useless to argue with them.

Rubbing my eyes, I head over to the mirror. I'm _exhausted. _Gazing into the mirror, I scowl again. It's been a few weeks since the pregnancy test, and I look horrible, bags under my eyes, hair lank and unwashed, puffy red eyes, the result of sleepless nights. Forcing myself to suck it up and look cheerful, I make my way downstairs.

"Morning, Max!" Gazzy greets me as I approach. "Man, you look terrible!"

"Thanks," I snarl. "Just what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning."

"No, seriously." It's Fang now, hugging me tightly. "Are you sure you're not coming down with something?"

How could guys be so _dense? _For a moment I'm almost tempted to tell him what's _really _wrong, but I quickly squash the impulse. He doesn't need to know yet, especially since I'm still clueless on what to do. "Probably just a cold or something. Nothing big."

"Do you want some DayQuill or something? I could get you some-"

"No thanks, I'm good." I've read somewhere that's it not safe to take acetaminophen when you're pregnant, and I don't want to take any risks.

"Well, alright then. But at least promise me you'll get some rest?"

"Of course," I tell him, turning away. "Come on, kids, time to get up."

"The Erasers showed up at school yesterday," Angel says lightly, stabbing her eggs with her fork.

Instant tension, so thick in the air that you could almost cut it with a knife. "What?" I ask, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

She nods, like its no big deal. "Yeah. They were standing on the playground. I think they might've been looking for us. Eventually the principal had to go outside and tell them to go away. He threatened to call the police, I think."

Gazzy nods. "Yeah, I thought they might've been Erasers, but I wasn't sure."

"Angel! Gazzy!" I cry, exasperated, throwing my hands up. "You only just thought to mention this?"

"Sorry, Max," Angel chirps, sky-blue eyes wide with what looks like genuine regret. "They seemed harmless, really."

I snort, not believing her. Harmless Erasers. That's one for the books.

"No, I'm serious!" she protests. "Like I said, I think they were just looking. I read their minds, and they weren't planning on attacking or anything."

"Alright," I relent, sighing. "Come on. School in twenty minutes."

Fang, Iggy, and I manage to get the kids ready to leave with a minimum of hassle. "Bye!" I call, leaning against the doorframe as they race down the driveway. "I think I'll go back to bed," I toss over my shoulder, heading up back to my room. "See you later."

I lock the door and collapse on my pristine white sheets. A glimmer of silver catches my eye and I reach for it instinctively. Fang's iPod? What's that doing up here?

Feeling a stab of curiosity, I grab the black headphones and stick them in my ears, turning on the iPod. Guitar notes begin the song, and I settle back into the pillows to listen as the lyrics began.

"_There's a moment in time and its stuck in my mind, way back when we were just kids,_

_Cuz your eyes told the tale of an act of betrayal, I knew that somebody did, _

_Oh, waves of time, seem to wash away the scenes of our crimes, for you this never ends, _

_Can you stay strong, can you go on? Kristy, are you doing okay?_

_A rose that won't bloom, winter's kept you, don't waste your whole like trying to get back what was taken away…"_

It takes a moment before I realize that silent tears have been sliding down my cheeks. I brush them away impatiently.

The thing is, I can see why Fang likes this song. It seems to fit…us. Our relationship. As strange as it seems, it's almost if this song was written for us…

I wonder if he realizes that…

I set the iPod on repeat and lay there for nearly two hours, staring at the ceiling while tears fell thick and heavy onto the pillowcase and the song played over and over again, pounding itself into my head.

And then I realize something else…

I sit bolt upright, feeling hope well in my chest. I've forgotten what a lovely feeling it is.

The Voice was right.

I know what I have to do.

**Hehe…bit of a cliffy, no? And about the song…I was listening to my iPod and thinking about this chapter, and Kristy Are You Doing Okay came on. And immediately I thought of Max and Fang. I can't think of why. **

**Reviews? **


	6. Chapter 6

**Welcome back! I actually have an IDEA to write this time so I'm not going to waste my time on this silly A/N!**

Another day. I'm standing in front of the sink, a pile of half-washed dishes looming in front of me. But right now I'm leaning with my elbows on the countertop, staring off into the backyard, miles away from this tiny, stuffy kitchen. I know what I have to do, it's just the question of will I have the guts to do it…

I feel a small nudge somewhere in my lower stomach. "I know, I know," I sigh. "I'm trying, okay?" How…_humiliating. _Here I am, Maximum Ride, the girl who can take on a hundred Erasers without flinching but is bending to the will of something less than an inch long.

At this point, I'd take the Erasers.

"Max?" the sleepy mumble comes from just inside the doorway. "What're you doin' up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep, honey," I sigh, still staring into the distance.

Gazzy trudges to the fridge. "Who were you talking to? Just now?"

"Nobody," I sigh again. "Myself, I guess."

"Whatever." Abandoning the fridge, he heads to the pantry.

The morning passes in an incomprehensible blur. Around midday Nudge comes up to me. "Max, is it okay if I sleep over at my friend May's house? She's having a party and—"

"Of course you can go," I tell her warmly. She squeals and runs to her room, reappearing in the living room a moment later with a stuffed backpack.

"See you later, Max!"

"See you when you get back," I reply, a lump jumping into my throat. I look away, my hand unconsciously falling to my stomach.

No more than a heartbeat later night has fallen, and the entire flock—minus Nudge—is gathered around the table, chatting and laughing and eating. The food sticks in my throat and tastes like dust.

After dinner we all gather around the television and watch a DVD. I can't pay attention to it, keeping my arms firmly wrapped around my stomach and at the same time keeping my thoughts carefully guarded from Angel. Eventually Fang puts his arms around me. "Come to bed with me?" he whispers in my ear. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

And suddenly I'm lying stretched out beside him. "Mmm…" I murmur, voice slurred with sleep. "I love you."

_You really don't have to do this, do you? _A small voice pleads in the back of my head. _Your baby could live a good life here. You and Fang could get married! Max, you really don't want to go, do you? _

I sit up, deciding to tell him everything. "Fang…" I breathe, unsure of how to begin, "have you…have you ever thought of maybe…having a family someday?" The words fly from my mouth of their own accord.

He sits up, taking my hand in his and wrapping his free arm around my waist. "Well…maybe…" he admits softly, his dark eyes boring into mine. Some distant parts of me hopes that our child will have his eyes—endless pools of darkness like windows to his soul…

_Max, you're turning into a poet, _I scold myself.

His next words take me by surprise. "But we already have a family."

What? He _can't_ already know, can he? Maybe Angel heard me thinking about the baby and decided to tell him…oh, I hope not, I really wanted to tell him myself… "W-we do?" I ask cautiously.

He laughs. _Laughs! _"Yeah, the flock is our family. You know that, right?"

Oh. Of course. He's talking about the flock. I let myself relax. "Of course," I say delicately, choosing my next words carefully. "But…I mean, a _real _family, Fang. A married-with-children sort of family." A picture flashes in my mind, Fang and I sitting on the porch of a house, holding hands, a child sitting between us, a boy, Fang in miniature, every perfect detail. For a moment it takes my breath away.

He blinks, shock gleaming in his dark eyes. Oh, great. Every thought of telling him evaporates like mist in sunlight. "We're _nineteen, _Max. Surely it's too soon to be thinking about that sort of thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I sigh, laying back down and rolling over so that he can't see the tiny pinpricks of tears gleaming in my eyes. "You're right. Good night, Fang."

"Good night, Max," he murmurs, putting his hand around my waist and pulling me close. His unspoken words hover in the air around us. _I love you. _And, even though he can't know what I'm planning, the darkness seems to whisper, _Please don't leave. _

"But I have to," I breathe to the shadows, too low for Fang to hear. "You wouldn't understand."

**I'm too lazy to add another A/N…btw, anyone recognize Max and Fang's conversation? **

**Reviews? **


	7. Chapter 7

**You, dear readers, should consider yourselves very, very lucky people. Three updates in one day! I amaze even myself.**

Moonlight dances on the mirror, reflecting a wide-awake pair of chocolate-brown eyes and the sleeping form of my boyfriend beside me. His arm is still wrapped around me, his breath soft in my ear. I check the clock. Midnight, right on the dot.

Tears threaten to overcome me again. I gently disentangle myself from my boyfriend, watching the small dapples of moonlight wash my skin to the brilliance of silver. Trying hard not to wake anyone, I head back to my room. There sits the backpack I packed the night before, containing everything from my very favorite clothes to a few days worth of food to the shiny new credit card I had taken out yesterday under a fake name and transferred some money from the flock's account onto. I change from my skimpy pajamas to a sturdy pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and head back into the living room.

I stand motionless and simply gaze around at the house I've lived in for the better part of five years. There's the ugly sofa that Nudge wouldn't let us leave the store without, the burn marks in the wallpaper where Gazzy set off a stink bomb—we couldn't get the smell out of the furniture for a month, the dark spot in the carpet where Angel spilled a bowl's worth of nearly boiling tomato soup, the stereo that the kids blast nonstop on the weekends, the beautiful bookshelf that nearly got burned down a month after we moved in—I refused to speak to Iggy or Gazzy for two weeks.

I walk into the kitchen. There's the chair that got chewed up by the puppy that Angel 'rescued' and kept for nearly four months before I took pity on the poor thing and gave him to a nice family a few blocks away. The dog had been adorable—all fluffy golden and white fur and bright brown eyes. Of course, Total had hated it, barking and snarling at it every time it came within a few feet of him. There, sitting on the table, is the good plate—or, at least, it _had _been a good plate—that Gazzy and Angel had broke and then failed miserably at gluing it back together-it looked like a modern art sculpture that Fang liked so much that he kept it as a centerpiece. There's the window that Iggy broke and tried to blame on Total, like _that _worked. The stove that Iggy's cooked so many meals on, the fridge that more times than not held up to two hundred dollars worth of bacon—a food the entire flock loved-, the coffeemaker with the cracked pot that broke when I dropped it on Total's paw, everything looks so familiar, so warm.

Wiping my eyes and sniffling slightly, I head back into the living room. Somehow…I can't leave without saying good-bye. I head to Angel's room, watching her sleep silently for a moment. She looks so peaceful, unaware of what I'm doing. I ruffle her blonde curls affectionately and kiss the top of her head gently. "Good-bye, my little world leader," I whisper fondly.

Gazzy's snoring, a few books on explosives spread haphazardly around his bed. I study them silently, shaking my head. "My little pyromaniac," I murmur lovingly, placing a hand on the top of his head, "I'll miss you more than you'll ever know."

Iggy's door is locked. I lean against it, smiling to myself. "Of course, you'll always be my _little _brother," I whisper to empty air, knowing how much he hated the name, I was the only one he ever let call him that.

Fang…

He's sprawled across his bed, now empty except for him, moonlight dappling his beautiful olive-toned skin and rippling across his chest. I bend over and kiss him lightly on the lips, studying the look of my skin against his—mine looking deathly pale against his skin-kissed tones. "Fang, Fang, Fang…" I murmur, feeling my heart almost rip in two, "Good-bye forever, my love. I'll never forget you, I promise." I spot something sticking out from underneath his pillow. I grab it.

It's a picture, of me and him. Our arms are around each other, faces glowing from laughter and sunlight and love. I turn it over.

_Max and Fang, together forever. (Taken by Gazzy cuz he's just awesome like that)_

I have to smile. Even though it was only a year ago, it seems like a lifetime. With only a heartbeat's hesitation, I slip the photograph into my pocket, a keepsake from happier times.

Outside, the cool breeze caresses my face and feathers, the stars gleam brightly far above my head.

I spare one last glance at my home—but can I really call it that anymore? It kills me to leave them, it really does…but I have to, for my sake, for theirs, for the sake of the small life inside of me...

I spread my wings.

_I wonder if I could fly so high I touched a star…_

**Well, how was that? I rather liked it. But hey, never trust the writer's opinion. They're always biased.**

**Reviews?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Welcome back! Sorry for making you all wait. I've had the worst writer's block lately. But, here I am now! **

The first thing he realized was that he was cold…

He sat up, gazing around the empty room, confused beyond belief. Through his sleep-hazed brain something clicked, he shouldn't be alone. A little bit of the fog lifted and he realized something—Max was gone.

Which was nothing new, he figured. Normally she was up before he was. Yawning, he threw on a sweatshirt over his pants and headed downstairs.

Iggy was muttering to himself as he stood over the stove, cracking eggs into a bowl. "Morning," Fang told him.

"Morning," the red-head replied. "Where's Max? Is she still asleep?"

"No…I thought she was down here." Something cold trickled down his spine, but he ignored it.

Iggy shrugged. "She's probably out for a morning flight or something."

"Yeah, probably."

Breakfast is virtually silent, what with Nudge still at her friend's. "Say, where's Max?" Gazzy mumbled suddenly, his mouth full. "She's usually here."

"Probably at the store," Fang yawned. "She'll be here soon." But somewhere deep inside he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

The morning passed quickly. Fang was sitting in the living room staring anxiously at the door, waiting for Max to walk through the door and tell him he was stupid to worry. He heard footsteps and relaxed for a moment, but it was only Nudge, bouncy and laughing. "Hey, Fang!" she giggled. "Man, that was tons of fun! I'll have to do it sometime…hang on, where's Max? Is she out back or something?" Fang bit his lip and didn't reply.

Night fell, still with no sign of the flock leader. Fang resorted to pacing the living room, the flock scattered around him and unusually still and silent. The unspoken thought lay heavily over the room—_Where is she? She's never been gone this long before…_

A thousand possibilities flashed through his mind. Max, captured and struggling against Itex agents, Max, passed out in a ditch somewhere, Max, laying broken and bleeding, Max, completely still and covered by a pure white sheet. "That's it," he said suddenly, stopping dead. "We've got to go looking for her."

The entire flock jumped to their feet at once, looking relieved. "Follow me!" Fang commanded, running out the back door and snapping out his wings. "Range out!" he called when they were all finally hovering in the air. "Yell if you find anything." It felt strange to be the one issuing orders, even stranger when everyone nodded and sped off. Fang picked a direction and started to fly, scanning the ground beneath him. _Please, let it be harmless, _he prayed. _Let this be some dream. Let her be okay, please. _

But, after nearly an hour of fruitless searching, he was forced to admit defeat. "Come on, guys," he called, choking up. "She's gone."

Of all their reactions, Gazzy's was the one he expected the least.

"_How could you?_" he screamed, throwing himself at Fang. Fang, given hardly any time to react, couldn't move—not really, that he wanted to. Gazzy started punching and kicking every piece of Fang he could get to, tears splashing down his pale face. "_How could you? You're just going to give up and let her go? How could you, Fang? I…I HATE you!" _He collapsed, sobbing.

Fang kneeled beside the blonde, putting one arm around his shoulder. "I know, Gazzy. I'm so sorry. It's just…you know Max. If she doesn't want to be found, she won't _be _found. It's useless to search for her."

"Maybe she'll come back later," Nudge sniffled, but her voice was oddly flat, like she didn't believe what she was saying.

Fang was the only one who wasn't crying. It felt odd, but he just…_couldn't. _He felt numb. It was like a part of him had died…

_Max, _he thought, gazing around at his sobbing and wailing flock, _how could you do this to us? _

_To me?  
_

**Yeah…definitely not my best work. XP You won't **_**believe **_**how hard it was to write this chapter. It's like I had to force myself to write it…does that make sense?**

**Review?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys! **** What, you didn't really think that last chapter was the end, did you? Have a little faith, people!**

The steady tinkle of glass on metal, the awful smell of burning grease, the sound of loud conversation…it's starting to give me a headache. I shut my eyes tight and lean against the wall, massaging my forehead.

It's been nearly six months since I left the flock. Actually, I'm surprised—I've done a lot better on my own then I thought I would. I have a steady job as a waitress in Vegas, and a small—but clean—apartment a few blocks away from where I work. I figure that, in such a huge city, even if the flock did come here for some odd reason, it would be virtually impossible for them to find me.

"Max!" the disgruntled voice of my supervisor, Kathy, breaks through my reverie.

"What?" I call back.

The heavyset blonde woman scowls at me. "Table seven. Now."

Sighing, I grab my notebook and head over to the table. "Hello," I tell the young couple and child who's sitting with them, trying to sound as bright and perky as possible. "My name is Max, and I'll be your server today. Would you like some drinks to start with?"

I take their orders and head wearily to the kitchen. "Here," I tell the old cook, slapping the thin sheet of paper on the countertop. He nods at me.

"Hey, Max," says a bright voice behind me. I turn. It's Katy, my best friend here.

"Oh, hey, Katy," I sigh, leaning against an empty table. "Ugh, and I still have half and hour left until I get to go home."

"Believe me, I know," she sighs.


	10. Chapter 10

Trinity Maria.

My daughter.

She's gorgeous, precious, perfect.

Her skin is the same color as mine, a peachy, almost matte color. Her thick shock of dark hair flops over her forehead, curling only slightly on the ends. Her cheeks flush a pale, dusty rose color, the exact same shade as her lips.

So I didn't get my little Fang after all. Yet…I'm not disappointed. I stare at the tiny person in my arms, struck dumb, something close to wonderment stirring in my chest. It feels strange to think that; after all these months waiting for her, she's finally here, resting peacefully in my arms. Against my will a chuckle rises in my chest. "Trinity, my little Trinity," I murmur to myself, tasting the name on my tongue.

Oddly enough, it seems to fit her.

My _daughter—_a little shiver runs down my spine at the words—yawns suddenly, blinking open her eyes. I have to catch my breath.

Her eyes…her eyes are _mine, _copied exactly onto her tiny, almost angelic face. The same liquid-melted-milk-chocolate eyes that greet me every morning in the mirror. And…it makes her look _better. _She coos and smiles at me, and I have no choice but to smile back and brush a tiny strand of hair from her face.

For the first time I notice the fluffy downy feathers poking over her shoulders. I tenderly grasp one wing, careful not to hurt her, and the wing expands.

The first thing I notice is the color, a pale, dusky gray, like a dove's. The feathers are downy and soft, sticking out at all angles, virtually useless for flying, at least for a few years. I find it somehow hard to believe that someday these feathers will be sleek and straight, laying flat over skin and bone.

Trinity coos again, reaching for a strand of my hair. Her grasp is surprisingly strong for a newborn. "Ouch," I murmur, untangling the blonde strands from her fist. She screeches with laughter.

I'm a _mother _now. It's hard to wrap my head around. Me, Maximum Ride, a _mom_…

Pain suddenly seizes my stomach. A cry rises from my throat against my will. Trinity, sensing my distress starts to wail.

Wave after wave of pain wracks my body.

_What's happening? _


	11. Chapter 11

You know, this is one of those things that make me want to hit myself.

Like, how could I _not _have realized?

So…I did get my little Fang, after all.

My Adrian Nicolas…

Yeah, I know, right?

Where Trinity looks like a perfect mixture of me and Fang, Adrian looks _exactly _like his father, a miniature Fang in my arms. He has the same coco-colored skin, the same shock of dark black hair as both Fang and his sister.

He has wings, too. His wings are gray, like Trinity's, but much darker, his primaries streaked with white and black, like mine, a little bit longer than his sister's. I have to smile, cuddling my son close to my chest.

A small mark on his upper arm draws my eye. There, a shade darker than the surrounding skin, is a birthmark. I run my fingers over it, marveling silently.

Who ever thought someone could have a birthmark shaped in a perfect heart?

Dusty sunlight streaks the pale brown carpet. Trinity coos and gurgles in her crib by my side, Adrian slumbers peacefully in my arms.

_This, _I think, smiling to myself, _is what happiness should be. _

**You, my dear readers, should be grateful. I almost didn't finish this chapter. Extremely short, I know, but take it and be happy with it. **

**Feel free to hate me now, by the way. Lord knows you have enough reasons to. **


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